Amy (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 1) (16 page)

So, by degrees, he talked himself into acceptance of his new situation, and began to be convinced that it would not be such a bad thing at all.

But one day he received a letter from Sir Osborne, written a month earlier in Italy. Amidst the raptures on ruins and frescoes, was one passage which was like a hammer-blow.

“I must thank you again, with all my heart, for your efforts to arrange this for us. Italy is everything we had hoped, my dear friend’s health is so much improved, and Mama is quite unaware of the truth about the Contessa. I sincerely trust that you have now obtained your heart’s desire also, and that you and Miss Allamont will be married very soon. Indeed you may already be the happiest of men! I wish you joy of her, Ambleside, and highly recommend Italy for a honeymoon.”

Ambleside tossed the letter into the fire, and buried his head in his hands.

16: A Plan

“What am I to do?” Ambleside cried in despair. “For God’s sake tell me how to get out of this dreadful coil!”

Miss Endercott shook her head sorrowfully, but did not reproach him for blaspheming. They sat in her rather shabby sitting room, her embroidery frame pushed aside.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, in more moderate tones. “Pray forgive my language.”

“Oh, I have heard worse. But to be honest, Mr Ambleside, I have not the least notion what you might do.”

He groaned. “You are my last hope! You have always been my supporter, through all my trials. There is still a case of Madeira for you if I win through.”

She did not smile at this sally. “Ah, Mr Ambleside, but you see I have already lost hope of the Madeira.”

“Is there no way out?”

She shook her head. “I do not see it. You are in too deep with Connie, and cannot honourably withdraw. You must offer for her, I believe. But the case there is not hopeless. She is young, and has changed her mind in the past. She may yet do so again.”

“It will be too late if we are already married.”

“You cannot marry until the year of mourning is past, so you have a few months yet. Not a long time, but long enough for an engagement.”

“I shall not speak until she is out of mourning. I was too hasty with Amy. It is improper to expect a lady to make such a decision while still grieving for her father.”

Miss Endercott smiled. “You have an excellent understanding of propriety, Mr Ambleside, but less so of the heart of a young lady, I feel. Gentlemen are like fruit ripe for plucking. The fruit which hangs beyond her reach is oftentimes more appealing than the one she holds in her hand.”

“Ah,” he said, taking the point. “So she may tire of me once I have spoken?”

“She
may
. It is not to be depended upon. She still sees only the advantages of the situation. But if you can also enlighten her as to the disadvantages…”

“Yes. Yes, I see.” He was thoughtful. Could it be possible? His heart leapt at the thought — perhaps he could after all set himself free.

At once his hopes were dashed.

“But it will not avail you,” Miss Endercott said briskly. “Even if you can save yourself from Connie, it will not bring Amy back to you. If she will not have you, then the case is hopeless.”

His burst of happiness evaporated instantly. No, there was no hope. Even if he could free himself from Connie, he could not have Amy.

“Mr Ambleside,” Miss Endercott went on. “I am old enough to be your mother, so perhaps I may be permitted to give you a little motherly advice?” He nodded his agreement. “You feel now as if you will never be happy again. You have gambled on love, and lost, and now you see only dreary duty ahead of you. But love is a fickle guide where marriage is concerned. Respect, enough money to live on, equality of rank — these form a more solid foundation. And honour, Mr Ambleside. Never underestimate the value of honour and reputation. If you do indeed marry Connie, it will be from the purest of motives, because it was the correct thing to do. Society will approve of your actions, you may be sure. And I guarantee, sir, that five or ten years from now, as you sit opposite your wife of an evening with your children about you, there will be no regret in your heart, only contentment.”

“Do you think so?”

“Indeed I do. What you need is a pleasant, conformable wife, who will devote herself to your comfort and provide a happy home for you and your children. Connie will do as well for the purpose as Amy. So do not repine, for sometimes fate takes unexpected turns which are all for the best, in the end.”

“And what of Amy?” he said quietly. “Will her fate be all for the best in the end?”

“Amy will find a husband to take care of her, you may be sure.”

“Will she? For I have selfishly driven away all her best options. I thought I was acting in her best interests, but now it is clear that I have destroyed her prospects of a good match. My wretched impulsiveness! It will be the ruin of me, I am certain. Whether I marry Connie or not, I should like to be assured that Amy will have every chance of finding a husband worthy of her.”

“Sometimes a little impulsiveness is no bad thing. As for Amy, all she needs is a little change of scenery, I believe, and fresher society.” Miss Endercott chuckled. “Now there I might be able to help out. No, do not worry about Amy, Mr Ambleside.”

~~~~~

Now that he had a plan, after a fashion, for testing Connie’s attachment to him, he lost no time in putting it into operation. The very next day, he dressed with unusual care and directly after breakfast rode to Allamont Hall. The day was warm for late spring, the air heavy with the threat of rain, and he was glad to hand his horse to a willing stable boy. Inside the house, the rooms were cool, with windows wide open to admit a refreshing breeze.

In the drawing room, the doors were open to the terrace, although the ladies were all indoors. To his relief, Amy was not there. The hour was so early that he guessed she was still engaged in her lessons. Belle and Miss Bellows were absent, too. But the four younger Miss Allamonts were there, sitting round a table with feathers and ribbons and bonnets and lace. Four pairs of eyes gazed at him with interest.

“You are early today, Mr Ambleside,” said one of them. Was it Grace? He rather thought it was. She giggled, and that set all of them twittering, like a flock of birds.

He managed a small smile. “The day is a fine one, and I wished to take advantage of it. I cannot tell how, for I did not direct him, but my horse came here of his own volition.”

That set them off again.

Now that his mind was made up, he was disinclined for polite nothings in the drawing room. Better by far to get it over with. “Do you not find it too warm to sit inside? May I tempt you to walk with me on the terrace, Miss Constance?”

They knew, of course. Connie blushed crimson, and the others all looked at her, wide-eyed, and then at Ambleside. He hoped it would discourage them from joining the party, and so it transpired, for after only the slightest show of reluctance, Connie jumped up, took his arm and walked sedately beside him through the open doors, the others whispering as they left.

“We will walk across to the far side,” he murmured. “That way we shall remain within sight of your sisters.”

He had not thought much about the words he would use. He knew he ought to speak of love, but he could not bring himself to use the word. Instead, he talked of admiration and esteem and devotion, for he was certain he would be devoted to his wife, in time. Then he pointed out the advantages of the match, his income and house, and how she must like to be so near to her old home.

She laughed a lot and cried a little, and once jumped with excitement, all the while clinging to his arm. As soon as he got to the question itself, she burst out, “Oh yes! Yes please! Oh yes!”

Her delight was so infectious that as the two walked back into the house together, the lady radiant with happiness, the gentleman’s smile was entirely genuine.

With the excited babbling of the other girls, and a stiff but mercifully brief interview with Lady Sara, followed by champagne and a summoning of all the indoors servants so that Connie might be congratulated, the morning sped by. It was only as Ambleside rode home, trying to forget Amy’s wan face when she shook his hand and wished him joy, that he realised he had said nothing of the late Mr Allamont’s views on such a marriage, nor had he told Connie anything of his natural daughter.

He had an uneasy feeling that he had made a mess of things again. So much he should have explained, just as he had done with Amy. At the thought of her, he closed his eyes, letting grief wash over him. What a fool he was, to be so ridiculously downhearted, even though he knew he was doing the right thing. He reminded himself of Connie’s face, lit up by happiness. When the threatened rain became reality, he returned to Staynlaw House drenched, his mood as grim as the weather, and only a long soak in the bath and several glasses of brandy restored him to some semblance of equanimity.

~~~~~

Amy’s feelings upon hearing of her sister’s betrothal may be imagined. She was called from the study of a difficult Bible text by the housekeeper bearing the joyful news, her face wreathed in smiles. Even though Amy had known it must come soon, still it was a blow. Despite all her efforts to consider Mr Ambleside as the rightful property of her sister, somehow she could not help thinking of him as hers alone. Now he was indeed Connie’s.

When she made her way to the drawing room, the happiness on Connie’s face lifted Amy’s spirits. Truly Mr Ambleside was well loved, and Connie would make him an admirable wife! And there was another reason for pleasure in the smiles of pride and delight on his face, too, as he looked down at his bride and patted her hand where it rested on his arm. Amy could not be downcast when the match brought such patent joy to both parties.

Then Mr Ambleside glanced up and caught her eye, and a shadow crossed his features. She could not interpret his expression, but it was certainly not a joyful one. There was a bleakness in it that almost broke her heart.

Once Mr Ambleside had retreated to ponder his triumph at home, the sisters gathered around the worktable again, although little work was done that day.

“I always knew how it would be!” Dulcie said. “Did I not say so? Did I not tell you from the first that he loved Connie and no other?” She threw a sideways look at Amy. “There were those who said it was otherwise, but I could tell. How happy you will be, Connie!”

“We must ask Mama about wedding clothes,” Grace said. “She will need a great many, I am sure.”

“There is plenty of time for that,” Belle said. “Connie cannot marry yet, after all. We must get Amy settled first. And then me,” she added in a low tone.

“Oh, such fustian!” Dulcie said. “For Ambleside must be so rich that Connie’s portion is of no consequence, so
that
does not signify.”

The others all protested. “No, indeed,” Grace said. “For if Connie marries out of turn, we
all
lose our dowries, and that will not do. Not unless Mr Ambleside is so in love that he will recompense each of us for the full amount in order to marry the sooner.”

Even Dulcie, Connie’s most stalwart supporter, could not quite engage Mr Ambleside for such a vast sum.

“At least with a long betrothal, you will have time to put Staynlaw House in order,” Grace said, and this started another train of interesting speculation.

Amy said little, for although she was happy for Connie, she did not feel herself equal to the task of appearing so. She was troubled, too, by the knowledge she had kept from her sister. She and Belle had agreed to say nothing of Mr Ambleside’s revelations regarding his natural daughter, and that had seemed like the proper decision at the time. Now she wondered whether she ought to have warned Connie, for she could not discover that Mr Ambleside had said anything of the matter to her himself.

Belle had no doubt that they had acted correctly. “It is for Ambleside himself to tell her as much or as little as he chooses,” she said. “It may be that, since his dealings with Papa only concerned
you
, he considers that he has no obligation to tell her of it at all. Or he may not wish to,” she added sadly, “since it caused you to refuse him. Perhaps he will not risk another refusal, for imagine how humiliating that must be for a man, to be rejected by two sisters one after the other!”

“What about… how
I
feel?” Amy whispered. “Should I tell her of that?” The two were in bed, with the candle blown out, although there was still a little light left to see by.

“You must say nothing, I believe,” Belle said. “What can possibly be gained by it? Only a quarrel with Connie, and none of us wish that. No, Ambleside is engaged to Connie now, and we must try our best to be happy for them both, and do all in our power to make them so. And you, dear sister, must bring Cousin James to the point. Or find another husband, if you choose.”

“If I choose? What choice do I have? None! We meet so few people, we go nowhere and every likely possibility has turned away from me, for one reason or another. And even James…”

“Even James?” Belle said gently.

“Have you not noticed? James comes less often, and pays me less attention than before. I shall lose him, too, and then what am I to do? No one wants me!”

“Dear Amy! You will find a husband, in time. Many families are in London for the season just now, but when they return to the country we shall receive more invitations. Once we are out of mourning, we shall be able to attend the public balls in Brinchester again, remember.”

“The Assembly Room balls? I have been going there for ever, without receiving a single offer. Besides, I do not much like public balls. I should far sooner go to a house party, like those Mama goes to sometimes — Hepplestone, or Tambray Hall, or even Glenbrindle. I should dearly like to see Scotland! And it would be so comfortable, do you not think, to be amongst family and their invited guests, and not crowded into those stuffy Assembly Rooms with any number of strangers who got in by subscription.”

Belle smiled at her. “I do not like balls any more than you do, sister, but we shall never be invited by any of Mama’s relations, I fear. The rift with Papa went too deep.”